


Splintered and Shattered

by writetheniteaway



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Post canon, Rescue, Sexual Assault, depictions of non-consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-21 22:40:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30028926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writetheniteaway/pseuds/writetheniteaway
Summary: Inej is taken captive with the intent to force her back in chains. Kaz intervenes. Hurt/comfort follows.
Relationships: Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa
Comments: 12
Kudos: 81
Collections: Kaz and Inej Fanfics





	Splintered and Shattered

**Author's Note:**

> ...Look I don't know what to tell you these idiots wouldn't let me do any of the work I actually have to do until I wrote this little blip of hurt comfort down. I'm not making a habit if it (yet?). My amazing best friend writewithurheart took an initial beta pass at it but this is for the most part not workshopped heavily. 
> 
> Sorry.

_**Kaz** _

Every spring brought with it a fresh crop of amateurs trying to make names for themselves in his city. He long ago lost any sense of pity for the suckers and saps who came to Ketterdam trying to make it rich quick; now it merely became a game. A joke between him and Jesper, gambling low stakes like a home cooked meal on which sorry sod would last the longest. 

Occasionally, a real talent would emerge, and Kaz would invest time and energy into learning everything there was to learn. Whether they could be an asset, liability, or simply a lever to pull at the proper time. 

There was a new crew; the Dusters, and they slowly wrought bits and pieces of havoc around Ketterdam since the snow had melted. A gang coming in established as a cohesive unit was rare, but not unheard of. Kaz learns, listening to a conversation two tables over while nursing a pint, that the group barreled through some small town they'd all grown up in, milked it dry and decided to try their luck in a real city with real money to be made. High off being large fish in small ponds, and as of yet having done nothing enough for most people to take notice. Kaz though, was not most people, and he had an eye on the group. Saw the hunger in their eyes, the lust for power that made him sure they would make a bold move.

He expects it to be a warehouse raid, or a shooting on another crew’s turf. Something loud and ostentatious, with no real objective other than announcing their presence in the city. What he overhears though, takes him by surprise in its complexity. They’re fresh from the country, and if the grunt running his mouth two tables over is to be believed, about to be flush with cash, selling a whole bilges worth of slaves into the arms of expensive clientele. 

“The bawdy houses are being raided too often, between the Merchants trying to get up on each other and that damn crow causing chaos, ain’t no money to be found. Ain’t no work. So’s we capitalize. Transform the industry. Sell ‘em straight to the johns. Pay one lump sum and to keep it alive, got yourself a personal pleasure den. No disease, no dirt on your good name. Easy as pie.”

“Ain’t no good to have a fresh piece with no training,” the man listening counters. “Need them madames teach the whores some manners first.” 

“Oh Billy boy already thought a that. He’s got one, been trained by a madame, got a reputation up and down the coast. And she’s cost most of the houses a good bit of coin on some vigilante streak. Scourge of the Slavers they call her. Billy’s gonna put her up first thing, let them see he’s serious bout bringing in quality product.”

Ice floods Kaz’s veins. He hadn’t thought much of Inej not coming into port when she had initially promised to; assumed she’d only caught another lead and had to chase it while the trail was fresh. 

“You should come watch,” the grunt continues. “She’s a spitfire, nearly run off twice. Billy’s gonna put on a show ‘fore he sells her off. You ain’t got the money to buy in, but pick up my next round I’ll let you at my spot in the rafters.”

“Where at?”

“Warehouse one-nine-three, ain’t been used by no one since—”

Kaz stands, tosses a bit of coin on the table to cover his tab and takes his cane in hand. He forces himself to walk slowly, keeps his face composed as his mind whirs.

_**Inej** _

Her fingers ache as though she’s holding a pin cushion inside out, stuck with thousands of tiny blades biting at her skin. She welcomes the pain, focuses on it, refusing to let her hands go numb, fights to move her hands just enough to keep feeling in them.

 _Saints survive her_ she would not be taken alive if she could help it. But they had surrounded her, nearly a dozen men and boys, all taller than her by at least a foot. All stocky, ruthless, and moving in harmony with each other as if they had choreographed a dance. She did not recognize their names or their marks, but they were clearly Kerch. She manages to dodge one blow but another comes from beside her, and she’d fallen hard to the deck, dizzy and winded. She tries to push herself up but a boot collides with her temple. The darkness envelopes her in a sick embrace.

*

_She breaks free of the simple cuffs they placed on her within minutes, and their leader, the tallest of them who they all call Billy, is amused that she manages such a feat so quickly after being unconscious for nearly two days._

_“Don’t fret,” he tells her, as she struggles against the burly guards whose bruising grips held her still so that Billy could stroke his finger down her cheek. “You won’t be burdened by our hospitality for much longer.”_

_Inej wretches when he explains their plan. To make a name for their miserable gang from the country, bring the Dusters to power in a real city. That the captive slaves had been bait, that she was the prize. There were tradesfolk up and down the coast who would pay for the pleasure of having the Scourge of the Slavers beneath them in their beds. More of them would simply want her dead. And Billy and his Dusters would make their mark, join the ranks of the most respected gangs in all of the city, by being the crew that could provide such pleasures._

_Inej laughs hysterically; astonished and afraid. She carries none of the value they believe she does, has made plenty of enemies who would not pay for the pleasure of her death but simply kill all of these children and take her life as well for a fraction of the cost of a charade._

_Billy seems to guess her thoughts. “Oh no, no no it isn’t only your life,” he promises her. “There’s a cover charge simply to get through the door. We’re going to put on a show. And you, lovely, are the main event. I’m sure there’s at least one trader who would pay a pretty bit of coin to watch us take your own knives and carve up that pretty face.”_

*

She can barely move, let alone see. They’d foregone rope entirely after her second escape attempt, opting for merciless steel that chafed at her wrists and ankles, heavy shackles weighing down in a circle around her waist, another length running from a cold metal collar strangling her slowly, tightening ever so slightly every time she struggled against the bonds. There’s a dark cloth wrapped tight across her eyes that’s been there since they left the ship. 

Where they’ve left her is dark, but she isn’t alone. She can hear the sounds of a card game merely feet away. And a bit further, Billy explains the plan for the evening in excruciating detail. She can almost feel his eyes on her, hoping for a reaction. Her heart rate quickens but she fights to keep her labored breathing even, already burdened by the chains.

It has been a very, very long time since she has felt so afraid. A fear she swore she would die before ever experiencing again. All of her work, all those she had freed, those who she had stopped. It had not been enough to repent of her crimes, nor absolve her many sins. The debt she owes is simply too great. 

_Saints who have forsaken me,_ she pleads. _Let it be quick._

_**Kaz** _

Only some country boys who didn’t know any better would let Kaz Brekker request an audience with their leader. And only a leader as stupidly new to Ketterdam as Billy Duster would immediately invite Kaz inside, offer him a glass of wine, and a sneak preview of the evening’s entertainment without so much as checking his long black coat for weapons.

Kaz’s eyes flash fury when he sees her bruised and bloody, her body bent under the weight of heavy chains. Any other threat in this city would have known then and there it was a sunk game. But Billy mistook his rage for desire. 

“Lovely, isn’t she?” He asks, smoothing a finger down Inej’s cheek. It takes every ounce of resolve he possesses for Kaz to keep still, gripping his cane so tightly he can feel the tendons across his knuckles threatening to snap. There hadn’t been time to assemble an army. He had to arrive first, before anyone who knew them. 

One word from anyone in this city would damn her. The only thing more legendary than his fury, was how much Kaz valued his wraith. One word from anyone who knew them both, and there would be no chance at making it out alive. 

“She meets your description,” Kaz acquiesces. “Name your price.” 

Billy bristles. “I have a building full of VIPs expecting a show tonight, I can’t spoil the fun by selling her early.” 

“Find another girl,” Kaz breathes easily. “They won’t know the difference.”

“But I will,” Billy insists. “And I want to watch _this one_ bleed.” 

Kaz wars with his instinct, the desire to snap Billy’s neck compounding by the second. 

_Patience_ , he demands of himself. _You’ve waited longer for less._

 _Save her,_ a smaller voice inside himself, but it isn’t asking for violence. Not yet. 

“Name your price, Mr. Duster.” Kaz speaks calmly, but every inch of him displays that the request comes coupled with a threat. 

Billy swallows. “I said she ain’t for sale till the auction.” 

Kaz lunges, shoving Billy back against the wall, bringing the head of his cane crashing down a breath away from the man’s eye. 

“You do not want me as an enemy,” Kaz growls. “Now name your price, before I make you name one. And then I will hunt down you and every one of your little country boys and feed you to the hogs in the slaughterhouse.” 

His reputation precedes him, he can tell, because the fear in Billy’s eyes is real. 

“Two million,” Billy rasps. It’s an outrageous sum. Kaz throws him to the ground. 

“One million,” Kaz counters. “Half now, and half when I’m satisfied you don’t plan to try anything before tonight to save face.” 

“This is personal for you,” Billy realizes, perplexed.

“She nearly ruined me,” Kaz hisses. “Her life is mine to take.”

“Well that’s a shame-”

Kaz’s cane collides with Billy’s jaw. Inej flinches at the sound of the impact. 

“Five hundred thousand,” Kaz spits, throwing a hefty bag of coin onto Billy’s bleeding face. “If I am followed, you will never see the other half.” 

Billy nods, faced too choked with blood to speak. He snaps his fingers and two guards appear. Kaz braces for a fight, but they merely make quick work of shuffling Inej out of the warehouse and into Kaz’s waiting carriage. 

_**Inej** _

**__**_It can’t be._ Her mind was lying to her, making up fantasies of a daring rescue to ease her passing from this life to the next. They could not have been so foolish as to bring her to Ketterdam; the trade was blatantly illegal. Kerch men would know that. But if she was the prize, had they returned her here where she was most known? Had the most enemies? 

Was she merely bait, a pawn once again in someone’s much larger game? 

It didn’t matter. No one was coming. No one even knew to look. 

She shivers at Billy’s touch, but cannot pull away. There’s more conversation. The voice opposite of Billy’s is low, vicious in its intensity. She knows that voice. But it cannot be. The sounds of a struggle interrupt her whirring mind, and the violent crack of bone splitting bone makes her jump. 

There are hands on her then, more than two, and they’re pulling her by the chain at her throat, ushering her out of the dim room she’d been kept in. Even through the blindfold she feels the way the air shifts, daylight brightening her vision though she still can’t see through the cloth. 

They shove her into the back of a carriage, she lands hard, unable to regain her balance with her hands still chained behind her, and the heavy weight disrupting her center of gravity. She tries to lift herself off of her stomach and into a seated position, but a crack of the wip sends the horses off at a breakneck pace and she has no choice but to lie flat, cheek pressed against the carriage floor. 

_**Kaz** _

His mind continues to war with itself. He wants to stop, throw open the doors of the carriage, pry the cursed metal away from her soft skin, assure himself she’ll survive. But they’re mere miles from the warehouse, and he knows that Billy Duster is a coward. But now he is a coward with something to _prove_ , and the first look at Inej was enough for Kaz to know she was in no condition to fight her way out of anything. He has to get her someplace safe before Duster gets his jaw set back in place and starts barking orders. So he spurs the horses on, sending the briefest of prayers to saints he’s certain aren’t listening that she can hold on just a little longer. 

_**Inej** _

“Inej,” he calls. She can feel the carriage dip with his weight as he climbs inside, but she makes no reply, unable to force a sound past her lips. “Wake up, wraith, please.” She feels bare skin touch hers, feather light on her neck. The hand is searching for a pulse, struggling to steady it’s own tremors. 

“Kaz?” Her voice sounds like they forced her to swallow gravel, but she’s speaking to him. 

“It’s me,” he assures her, brushing a small strand of hair off her cheek. 

“Close your eyes,” he orders her. “Let’s get this off you.” 

He pulls the blindfold from her eyes, easing it over her head and laying her down again gently. 

“Keep your eyes closed,” he tells her. “Give them time to adjust.” 

“Is it really you?” She asks, so softly she isn’t sure he’ll hear her. 

“I told you I’d always come for you,” he says. It takes a moment for her to recall, though it's a conversation she would never easily forget, only having lost it momentarily amongst the fog of fear and pain.

“Just lie still, now.” He instructs her, making quick work of the bonds at her wrists.

Inej hisses as her hands are released, letting her arms come to rest at her sides. They’d kept her bound in the same position for at least twelve hours if not longer, and the pain radiates down her spine, mixing with the intoxicating revelation that she was safe. That Kaz had saved her. Kaz eases her into a sitting position, apologies and rage riddled across his face. 

“I’ll be quick as I can,” he says, voice soft in contrast to his hard demeanor. He reaches for the collar around her neck. The motion takes her by surprise and she flinches away violently, nearly strangling herself on the chain. 

*

_She nearly makes it to the stern of the boat the second time she escapes; unsure of any kind of a plan but knowing with the gravest certainty that saints be damned, she would rather drown than allow them the satisfaction of selling tickets to her suffering. Her body was her own, and her mind, and her pain, and she would not allow any of it to be used in the service of wicked men. Not ever again. Billy himself trips her, and perhaps her head is worse than she thought. She hadn’t even heard him come along side her._

_“You’re a piece of work scourge, you know that?”_

_“So I've been told,” she gasps out._

_He grabs a fistful of her hair and yanks hard until she’s standing, making her eyes smart with tears. “More trouble than you’re worth,” he growls._

_“So let me drown,” she spits back._

_He kisses her. She hadn’t expected it, hadn’t had time to retreat inside of her mind. She wishes for her knives, one flick of her wrist would have stuck him in the neck, but she was weak with exhaustion and barely half his weight, without a blade there was little she could do. He winds her hair tighter in his hand, smiling like a cat with cream at her obvious distress._

_“I’m an indulgent man, Inej. And while you may be more trouble than you’re worth, this way,” he says, emphasizing his point with another yank on her hair, and a hand groping casually at her breast, “is more fun. And us boys from the country, we like our fun.”_

_**Kaz** _

He knows her fear is misplaced, but that doesn’t stop his guilt. He presses his palms toward her, gives her time to realize he isn’t a threat. Not to her. 

“Inej,” he says her name softly, trying to draw her back from where the demons lay in wait, just behind her eyes. “You’re safe,” he vows. “I won’t hurt you, love,” The pet name falls from his lips and he makes no effort to catch it. He spoke just as sweetly to Nina and thought nothing of it, but she was more a sister to him than Inej. No, they were always something else. Something _more_ , and though they both knew, both know, it was so rarely said. 

His gamble pays off, she sees him clearly, recognition creeping into her eyes. 

“That’s it,” he says with an encouraging nod, coaxing her to settle her breath. “Come back to me.” He waits, ample space between them, keeping his gaze locked with hers. “When you’re ready,” he tells her simply. 

Her body trembles violently, from fear he’s certain of, but cold as well. Duster had left her in little more than some slips of silk and lace, and while spring had begun to creep into Ketterdam the nights still often froze. 

“Inej, look at me. Love,” he waits until she meets his eye to speak again. “Let’s get you free, alright?”

Inej draws in a ragged breath, fighting for purchase to steady herself. Finally, she nods warily. 

“Good,” Kaz says softly, moving towards her slowly. 

“Talk to me,” she whimpers, eyes closed tight once more. 

“Alright,” Kaz agrees, keeping his voice steady. “I’m going to move your hair so I can see the lock.” He takes stock of her reaction, sees the way her hands curl around her stomach, wrists raw and bloodied. She needs more than a warning, he realizes. She needs distraction. 

“It’s only me,” he reminds her, moving with equal parts militant precision and tenderness to brush her hair to one side of her shoulders. The lock is simple enough, but the angle is strange. Kaz pulls a pick from his pocket, searching for something to talk to her about that would cause no further harm.

“There’s a new bank on the exchange,” he begins, tracing the path his hands need to take twice over before touching her again. “It’s practically a palace for all it’s spires and turrets.” 

Kaz fits the pick neatly into the locks opening, covering the noise of clanking metal with a picturesque description of the building. “They’re practically asking for someone to rob them,” he says. “It’s like a playground, even Wylan could climb it.” 

“Is that your fee, then?” She asks, “For saving my life, a bank robbery?”

With the sensation of being stabbed, he realizes he can’t tell if she’s joking. The tumbler gives way and he catches the collar as it falls from her neck, dragging the heavy chains from her body with it.

“No, love,” he says, choking on the thought that she would even consider such a thing after all this time. “You owe me nothing.” He unwinds the chains from her, tossing them to the back of the carriage, wincing as the clanging metal startles her again. 

Kaz takes both her hands in his own, nerves and oddities discarded entirely in the face of her fears. “Just live, wraith. See tomorrow and the day after. That’s all I want from you.”

Inej shatters, thrusting herself into his arms.

_**Inej**_

She’s only half aware of herself when she moves, clinging tight to him, the folds of his shirt wound in her fingers. She could recall with detail every time he had let her so close; shed his armor if only for a little while.

She would have him with it now. Not forever, but for this moment where she feels as though the flesh has been burned from her skin, her spirit ripped from her body. Needs him to anchor her, keep her from falling away. She was out of practice at turning her mind away to her body’s torments, having so long ago healed. But that night on deck with Duster had torn open old wounds, scars so faded they were practically new flesh, ripped freshly open. 

She was more than ready to die. 

“Can you walk?” His voice sounds far away, as if she’s dreamt him. And perhaps she has. She clutches tighter to him, praying she’s wrong, her sobs subsiding, but the tears still fall.

“Come with me, love,” Kaz murmurs. He’s never called her that before, not aloud at least, and yet each time he says it now draws her back from the knife’s edge she hovers on. Kaz helps her down from the carriage, leads her further into the alley, through a dim doorway and down two sets of stairs.

When they reach the basement of the building, a tavern of some sort based on the brief bit of noise that greeted them above, Kaz feels along the seam of a brick wall until a catch gives way, leading to a narrow set of stairs that’s closer to a ladder. 

“It’s a short way down,” he guides her gently, a hand on the small of her back as she makes her way below. 

When her feet are on solid ground Kaz steps away, lighting three candles balanced on sconces mounted to the wall.

“Sit,” he says, nodding his head toward a table and two chairs. On the farthest wall there’s a cot, dug in almost like the bunk of her cabin, and a few locked trunks. 

Inej sets herself gingerly on one of the chairs, draws her knees to her chest.

“The tavern is mine,” Kaz explains, rummaging through one of the trunks. “Just not on paper. No one knows this is here but me.”

Inej nods in understanding, not trusting her voice. Kaz drops his wares on the table, clean bandages and ointments, dry crackers and a small bottle of honey wine still sealed with wax. 

“I can bring you something hot from upstairs,” he offers her, nudging the crackers in her direction. “But start with this, I’m sure it’s been too long.” 

Inej knows she should eat but the thought of uncurling her arms from her knees, the effort it would take to chew anything repulses her. It must show on her face because Kaz is quick to shift gears, breaking the seal on the wine instead, pouring a few mouthfuls into a mug and pressing it firmly into her hand.

“Sip on this then, at least. Let it warm you up.”

The idea of warmth appeals to her if nothing else, and the wine is sweet on her tongue and easy to swallow. 

“Are your wrists the worst of it?” Kaz asks her. 

“Of what you can bandage,” she amends. “Yes, they’re the worst of that.” 

“Let me see then, love,” he knows she’s more likely to comply with the sweet words. But she cannot be angry about that, not right now. She offers first her left wrist then her right, balancing the mug of wine on her knee as he cleans and binds her broken skin. 

She empties the mug and he’s quick to refill it. The shock of the last few days, the lack of food, Kaz, and the wine, bring heat to her chest, and Inej feels herself slipping into a haze again. This one far more pleasant and inviting than the last.

Kaz hands her a clean sleeping shirt, then turns his back to return the medical supplies to their proper place, allowing her the privacy to choose whether to wear only that or simply pull it over the garish cloth Duster had dressed her in. 

Inej tears the delicate fabrics from her skin as soon as he turns away; pulling Kaz’s shirt over her head, so long on her it could nearly pass for a dress. She tucks her hands into the sleeves, lets the soft feeling soothe her.

He bites back a smile, and she can tell by the flush on his face the sight of her in his bedclothes stirs up a feeling he doesn't have a name for just yet. He offers his hand to her, leads her back to the cot and guides her to lie on her side. There’s a set of cotton sheets and a thin flannel blanket, and Inej burrows beneath them greedily, still shivering. 

_**Kaz** _

Kaz’s brow furrows, and he pulls his jacket off, draping it over her balled up frame, brushing her hair back gently from her face. She’s calmer now, the shock has worn off and given way to exhaustion, plain on every inch of her. 

“You’re safe here,” he tells her again, “rest now.”

“Please don’t leave me,” Inej whimpers.

He steels himself against her trembling lower lip; he can’t bear to see her so broken. It feels as though something inside of him is broken too; splintered and shattered into shards of glass cutting against his gut. 

“There’s work that can’t wait,” he insists, “not if they’re going to pay with their lives for putting you back in chains.” 

He watches her try and fail to school the disappointment from her face. He reaches to brush his knuckle across her cheek, moving with exaggerated slowness, afraid of startling her again. 

“I’ll be back before you wake up, love, I promise.” 

**_Inej_ **

The first thing she sees when she wakes are her knives, cleaned and piled neatly on top of a bundle of clothes, resting on the small table as if at attention and awaiting her return. She hears the warm crackle of a fire, feels the heat of it seeping deep into her weary bones. 

She blinks away sleep and stifles a yawn, catches Kaz’s eye as he drifts from his seat at the table to her side, pulled into her orbit like a magnet. 

He smells like smoke and gunpowder,but appears unscathed. 

“What did you do?” She asks, biting at her lower lip. 

“Only what they deserved,” he replies, caressing her cheek. “Don’t think about it now.”

“Are you going to keep me here forever, locked up where no one else can find me?” Her voice is weak still, but she tries for a joke, for the easy calm her heart desires. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”


End file.
